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Nimbus Film presents
A Nimbus Film/Wuste Filmproduktion
Wuste Film Ost/Studio Babelsberg production
Based on actual events
Do you remember when they arrived?
Do you remember April 9th?
I think you do. Everybody does.
All of a sudden they were everywhere.
The Gestapo, The Wehrmacht, Abwehr, SS.
All the German corps.
German Nazis.
Danish Nazis.
They came out of the dark.
They had been awaiting the day.
Did you go outside and watch?
What were you thinking?
Flame & Citron
A film by Ole Christian Madsen
North of Copenhagen, May 1944
Act with determination.
Execute your plan.
If you stay calm, no one will suspect a thing.
People will only be looking at the dead.
At nothing else.
They won't see you leaving.
They won't remember you...
...at all.
I know I'm doing the right thing.
It's the only right thing.
You see?
Yes...
Lieutenant Ostergaard Petersen
Yes?
Flowers from Dagmarhus headquarters.
- Ostergard Petersen? - That's correct.
Shall I sign for them?
No.
You often asked me why.
Why we do this.
Why?
- Don't provoke them. - Sure.
One good reason:
The Schalburg Corps.
Good morning.
Papers.
No, I don't think so... Have you seen any papers?
Danes in German uniforms. Traitors.
Some are experienced soldiers from the Eastern Front.
Brutal bastards.
Impossible to get close to.
Always in groups.
They are... vermin.
Go!
The ambulance people help us.
The police help us.
Everyone who's not afraid helps us.
Editor Gaust
They've raised the reward. 10,000.
- For the both of us? - Just you.
- What do they know? - They know you're a redhead.
Get your hair dyed, Bent.
Or wear a hat.
- A hat? - Or a cap, if you prefer.
That's him.
Another good reason:
Nazi editors who spew their propaganda through newspapers.
Editor Gaust?
Each has his own reasons.
On the 9th of April Jorgen watches as the Germans march into the city.
Endless rows of soldiers make his stomach turn.
He feels sick.
A feeling that persists.
Right up until that day last summer, when he enters a radio store.
In the back room they were printing illegal flyers,
and at long last Jorgen meets like-minded people.
And before long they're involved in underground activities.
Now Jorgen and a few others are the only ones left.
Everybody else either fled, got beaten to a pulp in jail or died.
Shot at the pole.
But Jorgen... Jorgen persisted.
Smuggling British pilots at night. Getting explosives to the saboteurs.
He's eating pills to stay awake.
Procuring weapons. Everything.
And he rides with me.
Time?
11.25 p.m. Shot through the back of the head.
Aksel Winther is a police solicitor.
He has access to all the confidential channels at police HQ.
He is in contact with the British and gets his orders directly from them.
Last autumn he helped the Jews flee the country.
Without him there was nothing.
Our chain of command is quite clear.
- I didn't authorise killing Gaust. - We assessed that it was safe.
- And we were in the neighbourhood. - Really?
A signature for the big shots in Stockholm.
- Some things are on the way. - What things?
Things that require discretion,
and the utmost discipline.
- You'll like it. - With Winther...
- It's big. - ... it's always big.
Mother country.
Who else would celebrate three killings in a place swarming with Germans.
That requires code.
There aren't many of us, and it's hard to tell who does what.
Once in a while we get together, but we usually work alone.
That's Bob, a veteran from the Winter War in Finland.
The schoolteacher called Brains, expert at getting information.
Big Bear, expert with the ladies. Always ready to party.
And Little Bear, great with weapons.
Rumour has it that if they shoot the man, they also shoot his wife.
The wine merchant sells information to both us and the Germans.
The Banana, former boxer who takes part in every operation he can.
Carl, a timid fellow, but tough if need be.
Heinrich and Teddy, students, the youngest of us.
Slim, he talks and talks and never stops. Always about food.
Cap, previously a nun in Belgium. Has her own group in Kastrup.
The Banana considers it his job to protect her.
And Jorgen, my friend.
We've been through this. Stay clear of him.
Karl Heinz Hoffmann. Head of the Gestapo.
He's the one hounding us.
Hoffmann wants to see you.
Make no mistake.
He's the biggest mass murderer Denmark has ever seen.
But you already know that.
May I offer you a drink?
Pardon my manners. Svend Christensen, police detective.
- And your name? - Ketty Selmer.
- Cheers, Svend Christensen. - Cheers.
Very nice.
You're married?
Yes.
- I haven't seen you here before. - I don't come here often. I travel.
- What do you do? - Fashion design and photography.
I just did a shoot for Women ofthe Times.
- Who are you? - Thank you for the wine.
I asked you a question.
You ask too many questions. Goodbye, Bent.
"Goodbye, Bent."
Maybe one of the boys said too much.
They would never say my name.
There she is!
Bent, it's a Kraut hotel. It's crawling with them.
- I'm going in. - Okay.
If you're not back in half an hour, I'm going in after you.
Yes.
CID. Ketty Selmer?
Nordland Hotel, Vesterbrogade, Copenhagen
What do you want?
May I come in?
Who do you know?
I design and photograph fashion.
Look.
- Why did you call me Bent? - It's your name, isn't it?
What do you really do?
- I can't tell you. - You'll have to.
I'm a courier. Stockholm-Copenhagen.
I carry letters. I know the wine merchant.
The wine merchant? He merely passes on information.
He's just a go-between. You don't work for a go-between.
I also know Winther.
What do you do for Winther?
You know I can't tell you.
- And that's not why you're here. - It isn't?
You had something else in mind.
I don't sleep with married women.
My husband is gay.
My marriage is pure pro forma. He's Swedish, so I can go back and forth.
Are you attracted to me?
Yes.
Why?
Because you're beautiful.
How old are you?
I'm 23. Why?
You're young.
Age matters.
Now, leave.
- Ketty Selmer, is that your real name? - Yes, of course. Why not?
Now, go.
This is my landlady, Lis.
And her husband, Helmer.
This is where I live.
In their basement.
It's a good place.
A good place to wait in. That's how it is.
Most of my time is spent waiting.
This is Horst Ernst Gilbert, colonel and editor at Scandinavian Telegrams,
where he spews German propaganda.
Political refugee. In reality he's a highly placed spy in the Abwehr.
Closest collaborator is Hermann Seibold.
SS-Obersturmbannf๏ฟฝhrer. Head of agents in Scandinavia.
And lastly, Mrs Elisabeth Lorentzen.
An author. Highly placed in the Abwehr and a secretary to Gilbert.
Care for some pastry?
And it's real coffee.
- They're Germans? - German spies!
Yes, but Germans nonetheless.
But the Liberation Council issued a ban on liquidation of Germans?
It's more of a recommendation. One that we do not follow.
It's a British order. London wants Abwehr extinguished in Scandinavia.
Did I get it all wrong?
Isn't our job to eliminate Danish informers and Nazis?
Yes, but you're in Special Forces, and you'll do as you are told!
Fine.
- How about you, Bent? - Perfect.
- But I don't shoot women. - You don't?
Then you'll do it, Citron.
Or do you also have a problem with women?
No, I don't.
So, we're shooting high-ranking German officers.
Then let's get Hoffmann. We would paralyse the Gestapo.
- There are no orders to that effect. - You can give it.
No, I can't. And I won't!
Stay away from Hoffmann, the both of you!
Bent, don't get caught up in a conversation with Gilbert.
He has a powerful personality and a great... spiritual potential.
- Knock on the door and shoot him! - Yes.
Good evening, Nielsen.
I met a woman last night. Ketty Selmer.
Did you, now?
Stay away from her.
- Waiting for me? - Yes.
What do you want?
I need to know how you know my name.
- Someone must have let it slip. - Yes, the question is who.
Don't worry. We're on the same side.
We are?
Is it Winther?
Don't ask me about that or anything else.
Don't come here again. It's the last thing I need.
Good night.
I was to shoot this woman. The one who turned in Finn.
I ran up the stairs.
Knocked on the door. She opened it.
I was about to pull the trigger...
But somehow she managed to tell me that she wasn't an informer.
She only informed on him because he'd abandoned her.
He had promised to marry her, but he was already married.
She was just a lonely hurt woman.
She stood there staring right at me.
And I couldn't pull the trigger.
She cried and cried...
I just couldn't.
I wet my pants and ran off.
The following week she turned in two more.
I swore it would never happen again.
Why couldn't you do it?
I forgot that we're not killing people, but Nazis.
This one is all yours, Jorgen.
We have to get going.
If you're not back in five minutes, I'm going in.
Ready?
Editor Horst Ernst Gilbert
I couldn't do it!
I only got her in the shoulder.
I've never killed before, Bent. I'm sorry.
- Who are you? - This is from Police Solicitor Winther.
Legal documents.
- May I see your badge? - Yes, of course.
One must be cautious these days. My husband is resting.
Would you like some tea?
"Thank you, Budjonny. "
The famous Soviet general. I educated him myself, Mr...?
Christensen. Svend Christensen.
After the First World War many officers tried their luck in the Red Army.
Germany was destroyed and impoverished.
The Russian officers, who now fight the German army,
were trained by us.
But I suppose you knew that.
You're here on behalf of my friend Winther?
Yes, I was to deliver these documents to you.
Thank you. Is something wrong with your hand?
Your German is very good, Mr Christensen.
Thank you. I used to live in Germany.
My father sent me there.
You're in the resistance.
Well, you're here on behalf of Winther. Don't be alarmed.
I have no sympathy for Hitler or the National Socialists.
- You swore allegiance to Der F๏ฟฝhrer. - That is a matter for my conscience.
You are a partisan.
That's very interesting.
A soldier without a front.
Are you a good soldier?
Are you prepared to pay the price?
- What price? - What do you think?
Your life.
You see, there can be only three reasons for fighting in a war.
Firstly, career opportunity.
It's widespread but does not produce good soldiers.
You have a fear of dying and only think of peace.
Secondly, ideology. Love of the mother country.
That is much more intriguing, but the dreamer breaks down.
He doesn't have the strength. He's shallow.
The frivolous and presumptuous nature of youth.
Unless he's passionate. Fanatical, if you will.
That makes for a good soldier.
- And thirdly? - Hatred of your enemy.
Hate seduces you into doing things...
you never thought yourself capable of.
Unless the hatred is caused by a personal neurosis.
What are you saying?
The neurotic is intelligent and he has doubts.
If he is betrayed, his hatred fades,
and doubt sets in.
War does nothing for the neurotic.
The gentle loving father is not to be found in war.
Your cause, Christensen, is legitimate.
Now you must become a good soldier.
Leaving already?
I suppose it had to come to this.
You're making a big mistake.
Our Father, who art in heaven...
Hallowed be thy Name...
Something's not right.
- What happened? - Drive!
Hermann Seibold
Stop it.
Easy, now. Breathe.
Bent, you'll be taken to a private clinic.
When you get an order, you follow it!
Do you understand? It's not optional!
- Yes, but Seibold was tough. - Of course, he's a trained soldier!
Mrs Lorentzen is dead, and Seibold is wounded.
One out of three isn't good enough.
Then do it yourself next time.
I'll choose to ignore that.
I was quite clear about Gilbert.
- He's not a Nazi. He admires us. - You think so?
He'd say anything to get off the hook.
Gilbert is insanely intelligent.
He knew you were coming.
He played you. He's been laughing at you all day.
He called up Hoffmann and they had a laugh!
It won't happen again.
I'm sorry. I'm sorry...
Just make sure you survive.
I'm meeting Hoffmann in half an hour. Bent left the documents at Gilbert's.
Hoffmann wants an explanation.
Jorgen... There's someone to see you.
- Where's Anne? - Right outside.
We've been looking for you. You said you'd pick us up.
This is from you. It's the book she wanted.
- But it's on Monday. - It's today.
Shall we celebrate? We usually do.
We can't afford to celebrate.
You bring home nothing,
and my father won't help out, as long as I'm married to you.
Wait.
Lend me some money. Come on.
Cough up.
It's my daughter's birthday. Cough up.
There's that Nazi grocer. He's loaded with cash.
I'm not a criminal.
Stay away from him. Little Bear, you too.
Go out and play with your new yoyo.
I'm sorry.
She's learned how to whistle?
A lot has happened.
I don't know if I can take this any more.
Do you understand?
- Bodil, I... - I'm not going to Sweden!
You have to.
- It's safer. - We're safe here.
I can't visit you here. In Sweden I can.
I love you.
It's the war.
This has nothing to do with the war. You weren't home before either.
I sat waiting then, too.
It has nothing to do with that.
You're not cut out for it, that's all.
You're just not that kind of man.
Stockholm, 3 weeks later
- Are they coming? - I assume so.
- They're your men, you should know. - I should, but I don't.
Finally.
Spex from Danish Army Intelligence.
- Flame, Citron. - Welcome to Stockholm.
Thanks.
Welcome.
Three days ago the Gestapo retaliated for the attacks on German officers.
Stopped a streetcar and threw eight hand-grenades at the 29 passengers.
You can imagine the consequences. If not, then look at the file.
The Gestapo threatens to repeat it, if the attacks persist.
Pure terror.
Terror that could've been avoided, if you hadn't started attacking Germans.
I don't know what you mean.
Maybe you can make Hoffmann believe that your hands are clean,
but we know that you ordered the assassinations of Gilbert,
Mrs Lorentzen and Seibold.
I still don't know what you're talking about.
I act on direct orders from the British Command.
- And I don't answer to anyone else. - What the hell are you talking about?
- Are you kidding me? - What's this about?
This is an order: There will be no retaliation for the streetcar incident.
All killings, all sabotage will cease immediately.
The Communist groups have received identical orders.
We need 50,000 armed men ready to ambush the Germans,
on the day the Allied Forces land on the west coast. This is big.
We need peace to establish these covert groups.
And I need to listen to the 29 victims. They say only one thing:
Revenge.
From your time in the army, Mr Faurschou-Hviid...
Leave us!
You must know the consequences of wartime disobedience.
- Is that a threat? - Read it as you wish.
We're preparing a big military operation and neither we
nor the British want it disrupted by random civilian resistance.
Our goal is to win the peace, not escalate the war.
I follow standing orders.
- Such as executing Gilbert? - Among others.
I'll personally call London and find out who you work for.
Until then you follow my orders. Is that clear?
- The mother country. - The mother country.
- Yes? - It's Winther.
Spex is clueless. He thinks he can run everything from Stockholm.
Are they following us?
- Yes. - Spex' people?
Spex is a moron. It's the Swedish Intelligence, SAPO. They're worried.
- About what? - That you'll shoot someone here.
They don't want trouble with their German friends.
You're quite famous here.
- Thank you. - It'll be hard to get close to Gilbert.
The Gestapo has him covered. He has two guards at all times.
I'll be ready in two weeks. To do whatever you decide.
- London wants action now. - Now?
Gilbert is expanding. He's turning into a serious threat.
- Can the Bears do it? - They're too noisy.
This requires precision, discretion and a minimum of brains.
Maybe I can shoot him from the car.
If we can get close enough.
- Too risky. - Let me. I'll do it.
Don't, Jorgen.
Let's drink to Jorgen. Cheers!
We're closed.
We're closed.
Alright, what can I do for you?
Do you want to live? You Nazi pig.
Fill it up.
Eggs, flour, yeast, sugar...
Whatever you have.
I see you have real coffee for your friends in the party.
Nice apples...
- Is this real chocolate? - Yes.
What the hell is that?
What the hell do you take me for? Someone who steals your money?
Do you think I'm a thief?
- Are you calling me a thief? - I'm sorry...
Thank you...
- Hello, Jorgen. - Hello.
- You're home late. - Yes.
Hey, sweetie.
Look, what Dad bought for you.
- Isn't it pretty? - Thank you.
And a few dresses...
And this is for you. It should last you for a few days.
Thank you.
Anne, go put on your pyjamas.
I'll be right there to tuck you in.
Jorgen, I have to tell you something.
I met someone.
Are you listening to me?
It shouldn't have happened. But it did.
I'm so sorry.
Jorgen.
Please don't...
- Who is it? - That's not important.
- But who is it? - You don't know him.
Who is it?!
Answer me, damn it. Who is it?
Are you afraid of me?
Why would you be afraid of me?
I never hurt you. Did I ever hurt you?
You'll kill him.
If I tell you, you'll kill him. It's the only thing you...
Why do you say that?
Why do you say that? Why?
It's not true. Why do you say that?
I love you.
Where did you go?
I just...
I had to...
- Can I try that? - Of course.
It's more efficient if you fire single shots.
Aksel asked if you want to go to Sweden.
- To calm your nerves. - Did he, now?
- Tell him my nerves are fine. - Keep it, Jorgen.
I'll get another.
- Thank you. - Don't mention it.
We can bring it to Japan. When we're done with the Germans.
We can go to Japan with the Americans.
- Flame and Citron in Japan? - Exactly.
- And after that? - I don't think there is an "after".
Not here. Not for us.
I think we have to move on.
Get up! Come on.
Up!
Get up!
Mother country!
A short while ago the Gestapo executed three of our men.
Bob, Carl and the school teacher were all shot at Dagmarhus.
There's an informer in our midst.
They were turned in, for sure.
And an hour ago there were eight executions at Ryvangen.
Our contact in Dagmarhus says eight more will be shot tonight.
Hoffmann is striking back for Gilbert.
The Communists took the opportunity to sabotage The Rifle Syndicate, Inc.
And the Schalburg Corps just bombed the Tivoli Gardens.
Everything points to more retaliation and more executions.
Let's have a moment's silence in memory of our fallen friends.
Soren, are you a bigamist?
What?
Do you get into bed with others?
No. Hell, no.
I'd never do that.
They were my friends. We served in Finland together.
- Friends inform on friends. - Shall I shoot him?
- I don't know yet. - I'm not the one, damn it!
What really happened at Cafe Lauritz Betjent?
We were celebrating the invasion of France.
We were at the bar.
Me, Little Bear and Big Bear.
We turn around and see that Bob, Carl and Brains
are surrounded by Gestapo men.
What could we do...
...other than sneak off?
What say the Bears?
He's telling the truth.
About Cafe Lauritz Betjent. That's what happened.
Alright, Soren. I'm sorry. But you know how it is.
Yes. I know how it is.
I need time, but I'll find the informer. Keep a low profile.
Vesterbro's in uproar, so stay clear.
Where were you?
Where were you, when the uprising started?
Where were you on June 26th
when Copenhagen resisted?
At long last people had had enough.
At long last they're doing something.
It's getting close.
Real war.
Already, 32 have fallen,
and it's only just begun.
The Communists are fighting.
But we 're just waiting.
Hello, Ketty.
How did you get in?
Today's my birthday.
And so? Do you expect me to sing for you?
No. I want to take you to dinner.
- Who sent you? - No one.
Hoffmann just named you the number one enemy of Germany.
He raised the reward to 20,000 and you break into my room?
The city is in uproar, and you want to go out for dinner?
- Have you lost your mind? - Alright, I'm sorry. I'll leave.
You should take care. Cover your hair.
Here.
- What did you do before the war? - Various things.
- At one point I was a dancer. - A dancer?
Where?
At the Apollo.
It was fun.
It wasn't proper, but it was fun.
And I met a lot of people. That's how I met Winther.
Winther has helped me a great deal.
- He got me a place to stay and a job. - He's a great man.
- Do you think so? - Yes.
- Why do you do it? - Do what?
Kill so many people.
- Someone has to. - But why kill at all?
What else can you do?
My father sent me to Germany in 1940,
to train as a waiter and a chef.
The hotel manager was a Nazi.
The chef was a Nazi.
Several of the waiters were Nazis.
I served Nazis every day. Everywhere.
One of the girls at the hotel was Jewish, but no one knew.
She kept it secret.
But the chef found out.
He turned her in.
She was beaten to a pulp before the police came after her.
I don't want that to happen here.
Sabotage makes no difference.
The only thing you can do is eliminate them. One by one.
Down to the last one.
Was she your girlfriend?
What happened to her?
- And you? - I don't know.
The war came as a relief to me.
Finally I could do something. Something right.
I stopped dancing and started working for Winther.
Conveying letters. Procuring information and passing it on.
It was fun in the beginning.
But it's different now.
Everything is grey.
I think I just want to survive.
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