The Cow and I (1959) Movie Script
THE COW AND THE PRISONER
There's no mistake about it, guys.
That's the Royal Air Force.
They're Gloucester Meteors.
-I think they're Messerschmitts.
Declos, they're English. Listen.
Made in England.
- Can't you hear it?
- Do the engines have an English accent?
Yes. I know about engines.
I've been a taxi driver.
- That's quite something else.
- It's the same thing.
You're not saying anything, Pommier.
Are they English or not?
Luftwaffe or Royal Air Force...
I'd rather have a nice butt.
Butts aren't everything.
Easy for you to say.
You've got what you need.
You always only think of one thing.
If you can call that thinking.
I haven't touched a woman
in two years.
I bet you didn't get around to it
much in your shop.
I had more than 500 women per
day in my shop.
Household articles,
what can you expect?
Can I wrap that for you, madam?
- Dinner's ready.
- Yes, we're coming.
It's still the Luftwaffe.
- Eating on your own, Bailly?
- I like my soup hot.
- We saw the RAF fly over.
- Churchill was on board too.
- Could you see by his cigar, Bussire?
- Asshole.
What that mean, 'asshole'?
Don't pay attention to him.
He's a gross person.
- He's right. They're English.
- You didn't see anything.
I don't need to. I can feel it.
Can't you hear them play golf?
Hear that, loser?
The Luftwaffe...
That's better.
Anyone can make a mistake.
A bit of lobster, Viscount?
I love snails,
especially in berry jelly.
I feel like snails.
I love them.
That sounds serious.
They're up to something.
- I wish they'd drop a lot of girls.
- What would you do with so many?
In '38, in Munich, I had four women
at the same time.
- We know, you told us.
- And I had a fifth just to vary a bit.
Don't believe me?
Go ask in the store, after the war.
- You keep playing the same tune.
- Don Juan in the department store.
Repeat that if you dare.
Don't argue.
This is the last dinner
we'll have together.
I'll be gone tomorrow night.
Beat each other up then.
Damn, it's past 8.
The BBC has already started.
Careful, not so loud.
The country of Jeanne d'Arc and Napoleon
will show its true face again.
The traitors will be punished.
We didn't want this war,
but we'll win it.
The armies of freedom
know what they're fighting for.
Yes, take that.
Churchill's England will disappear
from the map.
And disloyal General De Gaulle
who's sacrificing his country...
will receive his punishment.
Damn, it's Radio Paris.
When justice and liberty
will triumph...
France will show its real face again.
You've been listening to the voice
of the free French.
We were too late anyway.
Nothing much happened.
- Good to hear those voices again.
- Exactly.
In 1932, I had a girlfriend.
No, in 1931.
I always had to call her.
Even if I had nothing to say.
She just wanted to hear my voice.
It was good for her morale.
- She was crazy.
- A fantastic woman.
With great breasts.
Enough, we understand.
So your mind is made up?
- You're going tomorrow morning?
- Yes, at sunrise.
- Are you sure?
- Yes.
I think it's stupid.
I don't have personal reasons to stay,
like you do.
Here or in Paris, the Krauts
are everywhere.
But here, at least, they're at home.
Here you can tolerate them.
I don't feel at home here.
If you know how long you have to go,
it's doable.
You could count the days.
But we don't know anything.
1940, 1941, 1942.
Nobody tells us anything.
I don't want to spend
all my life here.
I don't have 100 women
waiting at home.
I only have one and I want
to grow old with her.
Very quietly.
I want to have her close to me.
And you know what?
- I'm fed up with Germany.
- That's understandable.
- You shouldn't think so much, Bailly.
- I'm not thinking. I'm remembering.
When they took me prisoner,
I thought it would be for three weeks.
A month at most.
Or else they would never have caught me.
- I'd still be running.
- What if they arrest you again?
If they arrest me again?
We're fine here. Most are much
worse off, even in France. We're lucky.
When they arrest you again,
you'll go to a labour camp.
Take my advice.
Stay where you are and don't move.
Admit it. You don't really
want to leave anymore.
- You're getting scared.
- Me?
You're afraid to ask Marlne.
Where did you get that?
I'll ask her.
You'll have the answer
in an hour.
- Do you think she'll agree.
- You never know with women.
- Right, Marlne?
- Not Marlne, Josepha.
- To me, you're Marlne, my vamp.
- Bed vamp.
Good luck.
Good night, lovebirds.
If I didn't have you,
I'd be packing my suitcase too.
You're a beautiful lady,
dear Josepha.
I need a big favour.
You have to help me,
for my friend.
What do you think?
Will Marlene agree?
She's a farmer.
She thinks of money.
Yes, all farmers are stingy.
- I'll repay her the cow.
- If she'll believe that.
She has Bussire as collateral.
Damn, I have a rotting tooth.
My best one too.
What's so funny?
Bailly's plan.
To escape by cruising through Germany
with a cow.
- Brilliant.
- The perfect couple.
Even better.
She's also a friend.
She'll give me milk when I'm thirsty
and I'll tell her stories.
- Finally someone to talk to, right?
- It's a change of animal.
- Thanks a lot.
- I'm only kidding.
How's the harem between your ears?
My sweetheart was naked.
And since she knew what I longed for...
she only wore jewellery
around her neck.
Shut up.
Horrible are the nights...
...without your lovely body
next to me.
- Without your mouth, your kisses.
- I said shut up.
I'm trying to
sublimate the base lust of this idiot.
But the only thing these verses inspire
him to is 'shut up'.
- He doesn't have a cow.
- Shut up.
And? Did she say no?
Answer me.
Didn't she want it?
If she said no, tell me.
I already know. It's off.
It's off, isn't it?
No, fool, you've got your cow.
Imbecile.
She didn't hesitate. I could kiss her.
Actually, I did.
You had me worried.
- It had better be true.
- I wouldn't say it otherwise.
He'll repay her in bed.
That's nasty, Pommier.
She's a great girl.
She doesn't need anything in return.
- Have you got everything?
- I hope I didn't forget anything.
Chocolate.
Biscuits.
My razor.
Toothbrush.
Sugar.
My compass.
This is for you.
Three shirts and a cardigan.
English Without Any Trouble.
Italian Without Any Trouble.
German Without Any Sorrow.
If I had wanted...
...I'd have become a real polyglot.
But with your stupid card games...
I didn't even have time
to open those books.
You learn German without any trouble
and even with a lot of pleasure.
German in practice.
- Did you study the map?
- For three months.
This is the route.
I've memorised it too.
250 km. 10 per day.
5 in the morning and 5 in the afternoon.
After 25 days of walking,
I'll arrive at Stuttgart Station.
And on the 26th day, I'll be in France.
If everything goes well.
Say, since you're going to Paris...
- Can you go to her?
- You can count on me.
It's my mother.
She lives in the Rue Pascal.
- Tell her how things are here.
- I will.
Anybody else I should see?
It's in the Gobelins area.
- Do you mind?
- Not at all.
I can't believe I've spent
two years here.
- Shall we pick a cow?
- I'll do it. Trust me.
- Did you sell cows in your shop?
- Trust me.
Let him do it
if he wants to.
- I'll pick a good milk cow.
- And a walking cow.
Let me see.
- Why not?
- I look for liveliness in the eyes.
Liveliness in the eyes?
- So she can't look sheepish?
- No, that's a bad sign.
A gentle look indicates
a social, friendly character.
- Human.
- Exactly.
- You know your stuff.
- Yes, leave it to me.
A wet nose.
Regular breathing.
Beautiful fur.
Mostly a matter of mucous membranes.
The skin.
Let's see.
Let me see.
You want this one.
No doubt about it.
This is your cow.
No, not good. Bad.
Here, this one's good.
Young, strong.
What about that?
How can I thank you?
I've never been given a cow before.
Goodbye.
Lots of luck.
Break a leg.
What a woman.
- What can I say?
- Just thank you.
Thank you, Marlne.
Thank you, Josepha.
Thank you, Madam.
Try to get as for as you can
in the first two days.
Marlne won't report your absence
until after 48 hours.
- By then I'll be far away if she'll walk.
- She'll walk.
Her ancestor crossed seas, went
through the Balkans to Egypt...
where she had a son. Her name was Io
and she was Zeus' lover.
Goodbye then.
You know what I mean.
As Marlne would say.
- You'll go to the Rue Pascal, won't you?
- You bet.
And don't think too much about
you know what, Casanova.
- I wanted to say...
- Don't mention it.
Better go.
- You don't mind that I'm leaving you?
- Just go, man.
Hello Bailly.
Gone for a walk?
Yes, a walk. Come on, Marguerite.
Goodbye, Bockmann.
Bockmann was our neighbour's name.
I thought I'd never see him again.
I really thought that...
No, now I'm going too fast.
Well, well?
After two kilometres, I saw two
men I didn't like the look of.
Police.
Now what?
I decided to take the bull
by the horns.
My adventure had really started.
Finally,
I'd find out if my plan worked.
I had passed my exam.
But on a trip like this one,
you'd rather not see any police.
It's better to avoid them.
Around noon we arrived at a spot
that reminded me of home.
France is a beautiful country.
Especially when you're abroad.
This is a misunderstanding.
I don't work here.
You're not sick.
Go to work!
I'll explain.
I work at a farm.
- Farmer.
- Shut up. Go!
- Don't touch me.
- Do as he says. he's crazy.
I'll explain.
Don't talk back to him.
He's mad.
Stand there. Take the handle.
- And then?
- Pull.
- Where are you from? I don't know you.
- Of course not.
Attention.
- Where are you from?
- From the south. Can't you hear?
- I mean here in Germany.
- I work at a farm, that way.
I was walking with my cow
when the Kraut stopped me.
Explain that to the old guy.
The commander.
He's not a bad guy.
Pretty old.
He speaks fluent French.
He was with the Fifth Column,
so he loves France.
- He'll be here at the end of the day.
- I'll be long gone by then.
Don't be an idiot.
That crazy man will shoot you.
A new face. Who's the gentleman
who took my place?
- Charles Bailly.
- Please carry on.
Then I can smoke a cigarette at the
'closet', as the English gentlemen say.
Careful.
- What's hanging of his pants?
- Ribbons.
He follows the news about the war.
- The ribbons mean good news.
- I've never seen that before.
- What does it mean.
- That the Krauts can get screwed.
- And he seems so distinguished.
- What do you want? He's a marquis.
He speaks formally.
He's very old fashioned.
- Do you call him by his first name?
- Me?
He treats me like his assistant.
What a laugh.
Go back to work!
Don't push the saw.
Gently.
Guess how long we've been working
on this one.
A week, and it's still not finished.
You're right.
What are they thinking?
That we don't know how to do nothing?
Gently, gently.
- Where's that commander?
- He doesn't come every day.
What if they take me?
When they do a count, they'll
see there's one too many.
Stand in line!
Stand still!
54 men.
- 48 men.
- There must be 50.
Count them again.
54 men.
- 49 men.
- I told you. I don't belong here.
It's the same thing every day.
Load them in the truck and
count them one by one.
I want 50 and not one more.
Fifty. Two time twenty-five..
Understood?
Let me explain.
- With how many are we really?
- Including you, 51.
What if they make a mistake and
come up with 50 again?
- Then you've got bad luck.
- Where's your commander?
For once I want to see a German
commander, and he's not here.
Don't panic. It'll be alright.
- St. Leonard, take pity on him.
- Who's St. Leonard?
The patron saint of prisoners.
If he existed,
there would be no prisoners.
Are they all here?
- Are they all here?
- Fifty men.
There's a little misunderstanding.
I'll explain.
- A little misunderstanding?
- Yes, I'm not part of this group.
I work on a farm,
but I was forced to join them.
What kind of story is this?
I wanted to explain, but he didn't
listen. Marguerite's waiting over there.
Yes, my cow. I was on the way
home with her.
Why are you adding prisoners?
We have problems enough with these.
- Go away.
- He should have listened.
When evening fell, Marguerite and I
decided to spend the night...
under these beautiful trees,
near the Tegernsee.
Or maybe it was the Wurmsee or the
Ammersee. I don't remember exactly.
Our first evening.
A field full of Marguerites.
Ah, there you are.
What was that all about?
Where were you?
You were talking to your girlfriends.
That's how it goes.
Gossipmonger.
What did I tell you?
Remember Bockmann?
He was now on the way home
in his cattle truck.
- Are you going back to the farm?
- Yes, I'm going back.
I had to find a quick excuse
for my presence here.
- Warm.
- Yes, warm.
I took the cow to the bull.
Lady to gentleman.
Now we're on the way home,
right Marguerite?
You don't want to walk all the way.
Aren't you tired?
See? Germans aren't so bad.
There I was.
I had walked 20 km for nothing.
I was going back to where I started.
A good story for later.
But at the moment...
- Beautiful day.
- Yes.
Wonderful day.
- Happy you?
- Very happy.
You don't know half how happy.
Does any of you understand German?
My colleague says...
if the prisoner really escaped
this morning...
we'll find him.
He will be severely punished.
My colleague says...
in Poland they have prison camps
for people who won't work.
It's paradise here.
It's hell there.
Remember that.
Last week, three men tried
to escape from camp 11.
Don't you have it good here?
I'm asking something. Answer.
You.
I have no complaints myself.
So don't do anything stupid.
He says it's God's will
that you're prisoners.
And the Fhrer's will.
So you're going against
God's will...
if you try to escape your destiny.
Understood?
You're soldiers.
Never forget that.
The cow.
Bailly dead.
You have to keep up the reputation and
the honour of the French army...
by accepting your defeat.
What do we do with them now?
They have to come back to the camp
every evening.
Sanction number one.
From now on, you'll sleep
at the camp.
Guards will pick you up and
bring you back every day.
The poor guy must have been
shot by a patrol.
- He should have listened to me.
- Now, he's escaped forever.
Escaped to eternity.
Sad.
I liked him. He was a good guy.
Friendly, easygoing.
Not complicated.
There he is!
- What happened?
- I was kidnapped.
By old Bockmann.
When I left, I met him...
and later I saw him again.
He thought I was tired...
and the poor idiot insisted
on taking me back in his car.
- You gave us a fright.
- Are you leaving again?
- Why?
- They're looking for you.
They're looking for a man,
not a couple.
You must be hungry. Stay for dinner.
I should leave now. I know myself.
If I postpone it,
I won't leave.
Goodbye.
You know I'll miss you all.
It was raining for five days in a row.
Big, icy drops.
For five days we dragged ourselves
through the mud.
Marguerite was very brave.
Without her, I probably
wouldn't have lasted.
On the sixth day, the rain stopped.
The sky remained dark and grey.
It was a raven-black sky,
even though there were no ravens.
We were a bit bored.
But I was not in the mood
for jokes.
But still...
I don't know what came over me.
I wasn't even thinking.
Apparently, German forests are famous
for their beauty. The country's pride.
Maybe a tourist can appreciate them,
but I didn't like them.
Kilometres of trees and trees.
I was exhausted and fed up.
This forest was one of the most famous
of the country. A piece of art.
But I could only think of two things.
A leg of lamb with green beans
and a warm bed.
Rather banal, I know.
But there are moments when you don't
want beauty and poetry.
You want some milk.
I don't understand you.
Russian!
Let's go.
I'm a French prisoner of war.
Escaped.
Me train Paris.
Civilian clothes.
Do you have any?
One moment.
Exactly. But I can't take train
with military costume.
Escaped prisoner.
Civilian clothes.
Civilian. Tie. Hat.
Here this.
This here.
Tie.
I don't understand anything.
The cow.
For me?
You give me a suit and
you eat the cow.
Marguerite's a high price
for a suit.
Marguerite against a suit was too much.
Way too much.
Hey, come here.
There. Look.
Blackberries.
Nice.
- I cut myself.
- You'll survive.
- A letter from your bride.
- I wish. Detmer wrote to me from Paris.
Oh la la, Paris.
Soldiers' paradise.
Paris, Montmartre, Folies Bergre,
Casino de Paris.
Did you ever go to the Cour
d'Argent restaurant?
Of course.
La bcasse la Prigourdine.
- Bcasse?
- A la Prigourdine.
- What's a bcasse?
- A wild duck.
- And goose liver.
- With truffle?
With champagne.
And a good glass of
Chteauneuf-du-pape.
It's true that emotions give
you an appetite.
I was very hungry.
Starving.
A poor person's hunger.
A few metres away from me, was a store
with lots of food.
Alright. I'll take the risk.
My life for a few cans of food.
It's absurd. Yes, absurd.
Just like the war.
To celebrate my 100th kilometre,
I cleaned myself up.
I felt happy and light.
All new.
Cleanliness is the start of
freedom, as they say.
What are you doing?
What's that?
Come here right away, you hear?
What do you want with that young man?
You don't even know him.
You're foolish.
Women.
All the same.
Come in.
- Hello.
- Hello. What do you want?
- French prisoner.
- French?
- Hello.
- Hello.
He's a French prisoner.
I don't understand what he wants.
Do you need anything?
- Great, you speak French.
- Yes, poor French.
- What's wrong?
- I don't know if I can tell you.
You're from the countryside.
You're used to it.
- The countryside?
- I work at a farm not far from here.
- Do you understand?
- Very well, yes.
- Is that your paddock out there?
- My dad's, yes.
- And the bull too?
- Yes, the bull too.
Come.
That's nature.
- We have to wait a bit.
- How long?
As long as it takes.
Then I'll wait until they're done.
Marseille.
I'll be...
- Is that your fianc?
- My brother.
- I live there.
- You do?
I was born there.
It's nice there.
What's he saying?
- Just that he was born in Marseille.
- Marseille?
Our boy's there.
Isn't that a dangerous area?
Mother, Hans wrote to us
that there's no danger.
- She thinks Marseille's dangerous.
- Marseille dangerous?
No, all the soldiers of the world
would like to be there now.
But soldiers don't belong there.
He says Marseille's a quiet city.
He only says that to reassure me.
She thinks you only say that
to reassure her.
A prisoner of war doesn't reassure
the people who...
Tell her I'm not a liar.
He says he's telling the truth.
I'd rather have him here.
She says
she'd rather have him here.
Marseille's a unique city.
The weather's always nice.
Blue skies and always sunny.
- He's better off there than in Russia.
- Don't mention Russia.
My younger brother died there.
She recognizes names of places.
- Ask him if he wants to have lunch here.
- Yes, we'd feel closer to Marseille.
Mother's asking if you want to
have lunch with us.
I'd love to, but...
My father says we'd feel
closer to Marseille.
That's well said.
I'd like to.
- Can I help you with anything?
- You don't have to yell.
She doesn't speak French,
but her hearing's fine.
If you had arrived two days ago,
I wouldn't have been here.
I work as a secretary for
a factory in Munich.
The countryside's not for me.
But with all the bombings,
my mother wanted me to come home.
- How old was your brother?
- Twenty-two.
What's he doing?
- How are you cutting the potatoes?
- I wasn't thinking.
I made fries of them.
Let's make the best of it.
I'll make you great fries.
Alright?
Of course.
We'll eat the same thing
as your son.
He's eating fries every day
in Marseille.
We'll eat fries like Hans does.
All mothers are the same.
A pity the fathers are so stupid.
Marguerite's her old self again.
I enjoyed having lunch with you.
But I have to go now.
Have a good journey.
Don't get lost.
He wishes you a good journey
and tells you not to get lost.
Don't worry.
I know where to go.
- Goodbye and thanks.
- Goodbye.
That's a French prisoner of war...
who escaped.
The Danube.
See that? The Danube
doesn't amount to much.
I prefer the Rhone
and even the Seine.
It's got that bit more.
I search bridge cross Danube.
- Bridge.
- The bridge is 6 km away.
But bridge kaput.
Boom. Gone.
Damn.
I won't quickly forget the Danube.
Bridge broken.
We walked until late at night...
looking for a bridge.
Poor Marguerite.
I have to leave you.
I'd have liked to keep you.
But if I take you, we'll sink.
I don't like doing this.
But maybe it's better.
You belong here.
You understand the language here.
I couldn't have taken you home.
I live on the fourth floor.
You understand, don't you?
You don't hate me for it, do you?
Goodbye, Marguerite.
Goodbye, old friend.
The next morning... hardly awake...
I wondered if I was still asleep.
A miracle had happened. Overnight,
military engineers had built a bridge.
And who was on that bridge?
My dear Marguerite.
Marguerite, my free pass.
Marguerite, my passkey.
The cow's mine.
You're a good animal.
We'll continue together.
Back up. People are coming.
No time for joking.
Stop.
What's he doing there with a cow?
- Make them go away.
- Get that man of the bridge!
You, come along.
Yes, alright. Listen, gentlemen.
- French prisoner of war.
- Yes... prisoner.
Let me explain.
No explain. Get lost.
Understood?
I want to get lost,
but the cow's not moving.
She's stubborn. You try it.
See? I told you.
This is useless.
Come back.
Stupid cow.
- Stupid French animal.
- I'm French, but the cow's German.
They're coming.
Move.
We have a problem.
I tried everything,
but she doesn't want to.
Fields of flowers. Towns.
More fields, hills, valleys.
Fields, hills, towns.
I was walking through
a documentary.
One of those never ending
documentaries.
Like all documentaries.
I didn't know Germany
was this big.
If the Swiss had captured me,
I'd have been home a long time ago.
Two big steps and you're out
of Switzerland.
Esslingen was the only city I had
to cross on my journey
Montparnasse - Bienvene sounds
a lot better.
Funny, our subway stations.
I never paid attention.
Porte des Lilas.
Notre-Dame-de-Lorette.
Filles du Calvaire.
Chteau Rouge.
La Motte-Picquet.
Grenelle.
La Motte-Picquet. Grenelle.
A good place to sleep,
but I wouldn't want to live here.
Another 20 km and
I'd be in Stuttgart.
To me, this cemetery...
lead to freedom.
Good animal.
Get up!
ID!
- I'll explain.
- What are you doing here?
Answer me.
What are you doing here?
Ah, French!
ID number.
- What's your number?
- 12642.
- What?
- 12642.
Bastard.
French pig.
Camp number.
12C. I've been put to work.
- What kind of work?
- Work at a farm.
Work on land. This is my cow.
German cow.
He's escaped.
You. Prisoner.
I can't deny that.
Escaped prisoner.
- No, I didn't escape.
- No?
Not escaped?
Alright then.
Yes, I'm an escaped prisoner.
Come with us.
We had you going, didn't we?
Can't you see we're
from the same place as you?
Hard to see at first sight.
- Are you really French?
- We're playing the same game as you.
We're also getting out.
No place like home, right?
- No place like home.
- Excuse us.
We wanted to know if we could
really pass for Germans.
A crazy test.
I could have dropped dead.
Maybe it's alright to die here.
But still.
- How long have you been walking around?
- Since this morning.
- This is a good place to spend the night.
- The downstairs neighbours are quiet.
You were milking.
- Do you live of milk?
- Do you want some?
Just to share a drink.
Good, isn't it?
- Thanks, I love milk.
- And this is pure.
You can swap a litre of milk
for a handful of rice.
- That's a good cow.
- More than that.
Marguerite's also a good friend.
- So this is how you escape?
- Openly as a prisoner of war?
Marguerite's my free pass.
My own invention.
- It's a good idea.
- I'd think so.
We travelled almost 200 km together.
Without ever arguing.
- A great trip.
- Our trick is better though. Look.
Frenchman! Bastard! Pig!
- You do have to speak German.
- That's true.
Let's play cards
to kill some time.
I don't feel like playing cards.
- Which way are you going?
- We'll take the train somewhere.
I'll take the train in Stuttgart.
But I need civilian clothes.
That's the weakness in your plan.
For us it's easy.
Pick a card.
Damn, spades.
Bad luck. You'll get caught.
- Shall we go?
- Yes, we're going.
Let us go first
and you follow.
- Together, we stand out too much.
- See you later then.
- Goodbye.
- And good luck.
You too. You'll need it.
All military have to be checked.
Can I see your papers?
Captain Mller.
Captain Rupp.
Gentlemen, this is the German army.
You've got bad luck.
Your battalion's in Russia.
Next time, get better papers.
Please, come with me.
Guards!
- Prisoner... work... farm.
- Go.
I was on the right track.
In the distance lies the most
beautiful building in the world.
Stuttgart Station.
Another couple of kilometres
and I was safe.
Or almost.
This is where we split up.
This time for real.
How you can get attached to a cow.
A cow.
I promise that I'll never
eat veal again.
That's the least I can do for you.
And now...
tell me to break a leg.
Because I'll need a bit of luck.
Farewell. Farewell.
FRANCE
Check it.
2420 crates of ammunition.
Carriage 4754. 348 ammunition crates.
For France.
Via Stuttgart, Karlsruhe,
Lunville and Vitry-le-Franois.
Hurry up.
- Everything alright?
- Yes, you can close it.
- What's wrong?
- I don't know. This never happens.
This valve was open.
Let's go.
Damn, damn, damn.
-France.
Lunville.
Repatriates are taken care of by the
Red Cross at platform 1.
A glass of milk?
Travellers to Nancy, Bar-le-Duc, Chlons
and Paris, to platform 3.
The train is about to leave.
The five last carriages are reserved
for the German army.
The train is about to leave.
Your papers, please.
My papers?
I come from Germany.
They don't give you papers there.
If you don't have any papers,
you have to come with us.
Explain yourself to
the station police.
That's how I was liberated.
Like everyone else. Two years later,
on 17 March 1945.
There's no mistake about it, guys.
That's the Royal Air Force.
They're Gloucester Meteors.
-I think they're Messerschmitts.
Declos, they're English. Listen.
Made in England.
- Can't you hear it?
- Do the engines have an English accent?
Yes. I know about engines.
I've been a taxi driver.
- That's quite something else.
- It's the same thing.
You're not saying anything, Pommier.
Are they English or not?
Luftwaffe or Royal Air Force...
I'd rather have a nice butt.
Butts aren't everything.
Easy for you to say.
You've got what you need.
You always only think of one thing.
If you can call that thinking.
I haven't touched a woman
in two years.
I bet you didn't get around to it
much in your shop.
I had more than 500 women per
day in my shop.
Household articles,
what can you expect?
Can I wrap that for you, madam?
- Dinner's ready.
- Yes, we're coming.
It's still the Luftwaffe.
- Eating on your own, Bailly?
- I like my soup hot.
- We saw the RAF fly over.
- Churchill was on board too.
- Could you see by his cigar, Bussire?
- Asshole.
What that mean, 'asshole'?
Don't pay attention to him.
He's a gross person.
- He's right. They're English.
- You didn't see anything.
I don't need to. I can feel it.
Can't you hear them play golf?
Hear that, loser?
The Luftwaffe...
That's better.
Anyone can make a mistake.
A bit of lobster, Viscount?
I love snails,
especially in berry jelly.
I feel like snails.
I love them.
That sounds serious.
They're up to something.
- I wish they'd drop a lot of girls.
- What would you do with so many?
In '38, in Munich, I had four women
at the same time.
- We know, you told us.
- And I had a fifth just to vary a bit.
Don't believe me?
Go ask in the store, after the war.
- You keep playing the same tune.
- Don Juan in the department store.
Repeat that if you dare.
Don't argue.
This is the last dinner
we'll have together.
I'll be gone tomorrow night.
Beat each other up then.
Damn, it's past 8.
The BBC has already started.
Careful, not so loud.
The country of Jeanne d'Arc and Napoleon
will show its true face again.
The traitors will be punished.
We didn't want this war,
but we'll win it.
The armies of freedom
know what they're fighting for.
Yes, take that.
Churchill's England will disappear
from the map.
And disloyal General De Gaulle
who's sacrificing his country...
will receive his punishment.
Damn, it's Radio Paris.
When justice and liberty
will triumph...
France will show its real face again.
You've been listening to the voice
of the free French.
We were too late anyway.
Nothing much happened.
- Good to hear those voices again.
- Exactly.
In 1932, I had a girlfriend.
No, in 1931.
I always had to call her.
Even if I had nothing to say.
She just wanted to hear my voice.
It was good for her morale.
- She was crazy.
- A fantastic woman.
With great breasts.
Enough, we understand.
So your mind is made up?
- You're going tomorrow morning?
- Yes, at sunrise.
- Are you sure?
- Yes.
I think it's stupid.
I don't have personal reasons to stay,
like you do.
Here or in Paris, the Krauts
are everywhere.
But here, at least, they're at home.
Here you can tolerate them.
I don't feel at home here.
If you know how long you have to go,
it's doable.
You could count the days.
But we don't know anything.
1940, 1941, 1942.
Nobody tells us anything.
I don't want to spend
all my life here.
I don't have 100 women
waiting at home.
I only have one and I want
to grow old with her.
Very quietly.
I want to have her close to me.
And you know what?
- I'm fed up with Germany.
- That's understandable.
- You shouldn't think so much, Bailly.
- I'm not thinking. I'm remembering.
When they took me prisoner,
I thought it would be for three weeks.
A month at most.
Or else they would never have caught me.
- I'd still be running.
- What if they arrest you again?
If they arrest me again?
We're fine here. Most are much
worse off, even in France. We're lucky.
When they arrest you again,
you'll go to a labour camp.
Take my advice.
Stay where you are and don't move.
Admit it. You don't really
want to leave anymore.
- You're getting scared.
- Me?
You're afraid to ask Marlne.
Where did you get that?
I'll ask her.
You'll have the answer
in an hour.
- Do you think she'll agree.
- You never know with women.
- Right, Marlne?
- Not Marlne, Josepha.
- To me, you're Marlne, my vamp.
- Bed vamp.
Good luck.
Good night, lovebirds.
If I didn't have you,
I'd be packing my suitcase too.
You're a beautiful lady,
dear Josepha.
I need a big favour.
You have to help me,
for my friend.
What do you think?
Will Marlene agree?
She's a farmer.
She thinks of money.
Yes, all farmers are stingy.
- I'll repay her the cow.
- If she'll believe that.
She has Bussire as collateral.
Damn, I have a rotting tooth.
My best one too.
What's so funny?
Bailly's plan.
To escape by cruising through Germany
with a cow.
- Brilliant.
- The perfect couple.
Even better.
She's also a friend.
She'll give me milk when I'm thirsty
and I'll tell her stories.
- Finally someone to talk to, right?
- It's a change of animal.
- Thanks a lot.
- I'm only kidding.
How's the harem between your ears?
My sweetheart was naked.
And since she knew what I longed for...
she only wore jewellery
around her neck.
Shut up.
Horrible are the nights...
...without your lovely body
next to me.
- Without your mouth, your kisses.
- I said shut up.
I'm trying to
sublimate the base lust of this idiot.
But the only thing these verses inspire
him to is 'shut up'.
- He doesn't have a cow.
- Shut up.
And? Did she say no?
Answer me.
Didn't she want it?
If she said no, tell me.
I already know. It's off.
It's off, isn't it?
No, fool, you've got your cow.
Imbecile.
She didn't hesitate. I could kiss her.
Actually, I did.
You had me worried.
- It had better be true.
- I wouldn't say it otherwise.
He'll repay her in bed.
That's nasty, Pommier.
She's a great girl.
She doesn't need anything in return.
- Have you got everything?
- I hope I didn't forget anything.
Chocolate.
Biscuits.
My razor.
Toothbrush.
Sugar.
My compass.
This is for you.
Three shirts and a cardigan.
English Without Any Trouble.
Italian Without Any Trouble.
German Without Any Sorrow.
If I had wanted...
...I'd have become a real polyglot.
But with your stupid card games...
I didn't even have time
to open those books.
You learn German without any trouble
and even with a lot of pleasure.
German in practice.
- Did you study the map?
- For three months.
This is the route.
I've memorised it too.
250 km. 10 per day.
5 in the morning and 5 in the afternoon.
After 25 days of walking,
I'll arrive at Stuttgart Station.
And on the 26th day, I'll be in France.
If everything goes well.
Say, since you're going to Paris...
- Can you go to her?
- You can count on me.
It's my mother.
She lives in the Rue Pascal.
- Tell her how things are here.
- I will.
Anybody else I should see?
It's in the Gobelins area.
- Do you mind?
- Not at all.
I can't believe I've spent
two years here.
- Shall we pick a cow?
- I'll do it. Trust me.
- Did you sell cows in your shop?
- Trust me.
Let him do it
if he wants to.
- I'll pick a good milk cow.
- And a walking cow.
Let me see.
- Why not?
- I look for liveliness in the eyes.
Liveliness in the eyes?
- So she can't look sheepish?
- No, that's a bad sign.
A gentle look indicates
a social, friendly character.
- Human.
- Exactly.
- You know your stuff.
- Yes, leave it to me.
A wet nose.
Regular breathing.
Beautiful fur.
Mostly a matter of mucous membranes.
The skin.
Let's see.
Let me see.
You want this one.
No doubt about it.
This is your cow.
No, not good. Bad.
Here, this one's good.
Young, strong.
What about that?
How can I thank you?
I've never been given a cow before.
Goodbye.
Lots of luck.
Break a leg.
What a woman.
- What can I say?
- Just thank you.
Thank you, Marlne.
Thank you, Josepha.
Thank you, Madam.
Try to get as for as you can
in the first two days.
Marlne won't report your absence
until after 48 hours.
- By then I'll be far away if she'll walk.
- She'll walk.
Her ancestor crossed seas, went
through the Balkans to Egypt...
where she had a son. Her name was Io
and she was Zeus' lover.
Goodbye then.
You know what I mean.
As Marlne would say.
- You'll go to the Rue Pascal, won't you?
- You bet.
And don't think too much about
you know what, Casanova.
- I wanted to say...
- Don't mention it.
Better go.
- You don't mind that I'm leaving you?
- Just go, man.
Hello Bailly.
Gone for a walk?
Yes, a walk. Come on, Marguerite.
Goodbye, Bockmann.
Bockmann was our neighbour's name.
I thought I'd never see him again.
I really thought that...
No, now I'm going too fast.
Well, well?
After two kilometres, I saw two
men I didn't like the look of.
Police.
Now what?
I decided to take the bull
by the horns.
My adventure had really started.
Finally,
I'd find out if my plan worked.
I had passed my exam.
But on a trip like this one,
you'd rather not see any police.
It's better to avoid them.
Around noon we arrived at a spot
that reminded me of home.
France is a beautiful country.
Especially when you're abroad.
This is a misunderstanding.
I don't work here.
You're not sick.
Go to work!
I'll explain.
I work at a farm.
- Farmer.
- Shut up. Go!
- Don't touch me.
- Do as he says. he's crazy.
I'll explain.
Don't talk back to him.
He's mad.
Stand there. Take the handle.
- And then?
- Pull.
- Where are you from? I don't know you.
- Of course not.
Attention.
- Where are you from?
- From the south. Can't you hear?
- I mean here in Germany.
- I work at a farm, that way.
I was walking with my cow
when the Kraut stopped me.
Explain that to the old guy.
The commander.
He's not a bad guy.
Pretty old.
He speaks fluent French.
He was with the Fifth Column,
so he loves France.
- He'll be here at the end of the day.
- I'll be long gone by then.
Don't be an idiot.
That crazy man will shoot you.
A new face. Who's the gentleman
who took my place?
- Charles Bailly.
- Please carry on.
Then I can smoke a cigarette at the
'closet', as the English gentlemen say.
Careful.
- What's hanging of his pants?
- Ribbons.
He follows the news about the war.
- The ribbons mean good news.
- I've never seen that before.
- What does it mean.
- That the Krauts can get screwed.
- And he seems so distinguished.
- What do you want? He's a marquis.
He speaks formally.
He's very old fashioned.
- Do you call him by his first name?
- Me?
He treats me like his assistant.
What a laugh.
Go back to work!
Don't push the saw.
Gently.
Guess how long we've been working
on this one.
A week, and it's still not finished.
You're right.
What are they thinking?
That we don't know how to do nothing?
Gently, gently.
- Where's that commander?
- He doesn't come every day.
What if they take me?
When they do a count, they'll
see there's one too many.
Stand in line!
Stand still!
54 men.
- 48 men.
- There must be 50.
Count them again.
54 men.
- 49 men.
- I told you. I don't belong here.
It's the same thing every day.
Load them in the truck and
count them one by one.
I want 50 and not one more.
Fifty. Two time twenty-five..
Understood?
Let me explain.
- With how many are we really?
- Including you, 51.
What if they make a mistake and
come up with 50 again?
- Then you've got bad luck.
- Where's your commander?
For once I want to see a German
commander, and he's not here.
Don't panic. It'll be alright.
- St. Leonard, take pity on him.
- Who's St. Leonard?
The patron saint of prisoners.
If he existed,
there would be no prisoners.
Are they all here?
- Are they all here?
- Fifty men.
There's a little misunderstanding.
I'll explain.
- A little misunderstanding?
- Yes, I'm not part of this group.
I work on a farm,
but I was forced to join them.
What kind of story is this?
I wanted to explain, but he didn't
listen. Marguerite's waiting over there.
Yes, my cow. I was on the way
home with her.
Why are you adding prisoners?
We have problems enough with these.
- Go away.
- He should have listened.
When evening fell, Marguerite and I
decided to spend the night...
under these beautiful trees,
near the Tegernsee.
Or maybe it was the Wurmsee or the
Ammersee. I don't remember exactly.
Our first evening.
A field full of Marguerites.
Ah, there you are.
What was that all about?
Where were you?
You were talking to your girlfriends.
That's how it goes.
Gossipmonger.
What did I tell you?
Remember Bockmann?
He was now on the way home
in his cattle truck.
- Are you going back to the farm?
- Yes, I'm going back.
I had to find a quick excuse
for my presence here.
- Warm.
- Yes, warm.
I took the cow to the bull.
Lady to gentleman.
Now we're on the way home,
right Marguerite?
You don't want to walk all the way.
Aren't you tired?
See? Germans aren't so bad.
There I was.
I had walked 20 km for nothing.
I was going back to where I started.
A good story for later.
But at the moment...
- Beautiful day.
- Yes.
Wonderful day.
- Happy you?
- Very happy.
You don't know half how happy.
Does any of you understand German?
My colleague says...
if the prisoner really escaped
this morning...
we'll find him.
He will be severely punished.
My colleague says...
in Poland they have prison camps
for people who won't work.
It's paradise here.
It's hell there.
Remember that.
Last week, three men tried
to escape from camp 11.
Don't you have it good here?
I'm asking something. Answer.
You.
I have no complaints myself.
So don't do anything stupid.
He says it's God's will
that you're prisoners.
And the Fhrer's will.
So you're going against
God's will...
if you try to escape your destiny.
Understood?
You're soldiers.
Never forget that.
The cow.
Bailly dead.
You have to keep up the reputation and
the honour of the French army...
by accepting your defeat.
What do we do with them now?
They have to come back to the camp
every evening.
Sanction number one.
From now on, you'll sleep
at the camp.
Guards will pick you up and
bring you back every day.
The poor guy must have been
shot by a patrol.
- He should have listened to me.
- Now, he's escaped forever.
Escaped to eternity.
Sad.
I liked him. He was a good guy.
Friendly, easygoing.
Not complicated.
There he is!
- What happened?
- I was kidnapped.
By old Bockmann.
When I left, I met him...
and later I saw him again.
He thought I was tired...
and the poor idiot insisted
on taking me back in his car.
- You gave us a fright.
- Are you leaving again?
- Why?
- They're looking for you.
They're looking for a man,
not a couple.
You must be hungry. Stay for dinner.
I should leave now. I know myself.
If I postpone it,
I won't leave.
Goodbye.
You know I'll miss you all.
It was raining for five days in a row.
Big, icy drops.
For five days we dragged ourselves
through the mud.
Marguerite was very brave.
Without her, I probably
wouldn't have lasted.
On the sixth day, the rain stopped.
The sky remained dark and grey.
It was a raven-black sky,
even though there were no ravens.
We were a bit bored.
But I was not in the mood
for jokes.
But still...
I don't know what came over me.
I wasn't even thinking.
Apparently, German forests are famous
for their beauty. The country's pride.
Maybe a tourist can appreciate them,
but I didn't like them.
Kilometres of trees and trees.
I was exhausted and fed up.
This forest was one of the most famous
of the country. A piece of art.
But I could only think of two things.
A leg of lamb with green beans
and a warm bed.
Rather banal, I know.
But there are moments when you don't
want beauty and poetry.
You want some milk.
I don't understand you.
Russian!
Let's go.
I'm a French prisoner of war.
Escaped.
Me train Paris.
Civilian clothes.
Do you have any?
One moment.
Exactly. But I can't take train
with military costume.
Escaped prisoner.
Civilian clothes.
Civilian. Tie. Hat.
Here this.
This here.
Tie.
I don't understand anything.
The cow.
For me?
You give me a suit and
you eat the cow.
Marguerite's a high price
for a suit.
Marguerite against a suit was too much.
Way too much.
Hey, come here.
There. Look.
Blackberries.
Nice.
- I cut myself.
- You'll survive.
- A letter from your bride.
- I wish. Detmer wrote to me from Paris.
Oh la la, Paris.
Soldiers' paradise.
Paris, Montmartre, Folies Bergre,
Casino de Paris.
Did you ever go to the Cour
d'Argent restaurant?
Of course.
La bcasse la Prigourdine.
- Bcasse?
- A la Prigourdine.
- What's a bcasse?
- A wild duck.
- And goose liver.
- With truffle?
With champagne.
And a good glass of
Chteauneuf-du-pape.
It's true that emotions give
you an appetite.
I was very hungry.
Starving.
A poor person's hunger.
A few metres away from me, was a store
with lots of food.
Alright. I'll take the risk.
My life for a few cans of food.
It's absurd. Yes, absurd.
Just like the war.
To celebrate my 100th kilometre,
I cleaned myself up.
I felt happy and light.
All new.
Cleanliness is the start of
freedom, as they say.
What are you doing?
What's that?
Come here right away, you hear?
What do you want with that young man?
You don't even know him.
You're foolish.
Women.
All the same.
Come in.
- Hello.
- Hello. What do you want?
- French prisoner.
- French?
- Hello.
- Hello.
He's a French prisoner.
I don't understand what he wants.
Do you need anything?
- Great, you speak French.
- Yes, poor French.
- What's wrong?
- I don't know if I can tell you.
You're from the countryside.
You're used to it.
- The countryside?
- I work at a farm not far from here.
- Do you understand?
- Very well, yes.
- Is that your paddock out there?
- My dad's, yes.
- And the bull too?
- Yes, the bull too.
Come.
That's nature.
- We have to wait a bit.
- How long?
As long as it takes.
Then I'll wait until they're done.
Marseille.
I'll be...
- Is that your fianc?
- My brother.
- I live there.
- You do?
I was born there.
It's nice there.
What's he saying?
- Just that he was born in Marseille.
- Marseille?
Our boy's there.
Isn't that a dangerous area?
Mother, Hans wrote to us
that there's no danger.
- She thinks Marseille's dangerous.
- Marseille dangerous?
No, all the soldiers of the world
would like to be there now.
But soldiers don't belong there.
He says Marseille's a quiet city.
He only says that to reassure me.
She thinks you only say that
to reassure her.
A prisoner of war doesn't reassure
the people who...
Tell her I'm not a liar.
He says he's telling the truth.
I'd rather have him here.
She says
she'd rather have him here.
Marseille's a unique city.
The weather's always nice.
Blue skies and always sunny.
- He's better off there than in Russia.
- Don't mention Russia.
My younger brother died there.
She recognizes names of places.
- Ask him if he wants to have lunch here.
- Yes, we'd feel closer to Marseille.
Mother's asking if you want to
have lunch with us.
I'd love to, but...
My father says we'd feel
closer to Marseille.
That's well said.
I'd like to.
- Can I help you with anything?
- You don't have to yell.
She doesn't speak French,
but her hearing's fine.
If you had arrived two days ago,
I wouldn't have been here.
I work as a secretary for
a factory in Munich.
The countryside's not for me.
But with all the bombings,
my mother wanted me to come home.
- How old was your brother?
- Twenty-two.
What's he doing?
- How are you cutting the potatoes?
- I wasn't thinking.
I made fries of them.
Let's make the best of it.
I'll make you great fries.
Alright?
Of course.
We'll eat the same thing
as your son.
He's eating fries every day
in Marseille.
We'll eat fries like Hans does.
All mothers are the same.
A pity the fathers are so stupid.
Marguerite's her old self again.
I enjoyed having lunch with you.
But I have to go now.
Have a good journey.
Don't get lost.
He wishes you a good journey
and tells you not to get lost.
Don't worry.
I know where to go.
- Goodbye and thanks.
- Goodbye.
That's a French prisoner of war...
who escaped.
The Danube.
See that? The Danube
doesn't amount to much.
I prefer the Rhone
and even the Seine.
It's got that bit more.
I search bridge cross Danube.
- Bridge.
- The bridge is 6 km away.
But bridge kaput.
Boom. Gone.
Damn.
I won't quickly forget the Danube.
Bridge broken.
We walked until late at night...
looking for a bridge.
Poor Marguerite.
I have to leave you.
I'd have liked to keep you.
But if I take you, we'll sink.
I don't like doing this.
But maybe it's better.
You belong here.
You understand the language here.
I couldn't have taken you home.
I live on the fourth floor.
You understand, don't you?
You don't hate me for it, do you?
Goodbye, Marguerite.
Goodbye, old friend.
The next morning... hardly awake...
I wondered if I was still asleep.
A miracle had happened. Overnight,
military engineers had built a bridge.
And who was on that bridge?
My dear Marguerite.
Marguerite, my free pass.
Marguerite, my passkey.
The cow's mine.
You're a good animal.
We'll continue together.
Back up. People are coming.
No time for joking.
Stop.
What's he doing there with a cow?
- Make them go away.
- Get that man of the bridge!
You, come along.
Yes, alright. Listen, gentlemen.
- French prisoner of war.
- Yes... prisoner.
Let me explain.
No explain. Get lost.
Understood?
I want to get lost,
but the cow's not moving.
She's stubborn. You try it.
See? I told you.
This is useless.
Come back.
Stupid cow.
- Stupid French animal.
- I'm French, but the cow's German.
They're coming.
Move.
We have a problem.
I tried everything,
but she doesn't want to.
Fields of flowers. Towns.
More fields, hills, valleys.
Fields, hills, towns.
I was walking through
a documentary.
One of those never ending
documentaries.
Like all documentaries.
I didn't know Germany
was this big.
If the Swiss had captured me,
I'd have been home a long time ago.
Two big steps and you're out
of Switzerland.
Esslingen was the only city I had
to cross on my journey
Montparnasse - Bienvene sounds
a lot better.
Funny, our subway stations.
I never paid attention.
Porte des Lilas.
Notre-Dame-de-Lorette.
Filles du Calvaire.
Chteau Rouge.
La Motte-Picquet.
Grenelle.
La Motte-Picquet. Grenelle.
A good place to sleep,
but I wouldn't want to live here.
Another 20 km and
I'd be in Stuttgart.
To me, this cemetery...
lead to freedom.
Good animal.
Get up!
ID!
- I'll explain.
- What are you doing here?
Answer me.
What are you doing here?
Ah, French!
ID number.
- What's your number?
- 12642.
- What?
- 12642.
Bastard.
French pig.
Camp number.
12C. I've been put to work.
- What kind of work?
- Work at a farm.
Work on land. This is my cow.
German cow.
He's escaped.
You. Prisoner.
I can't deny that.
Escaped prisoner.
- No, I didn't escape.
- No?
Not escaped?
Alright then.
Yes, I'm an escaped prisoner.
Come with us.
We had you going, didn't we?
Can't you see we're
from the same place as you?
Hard to see at first sight.
- Are you really French?
- We're playing the same game as you.
We're also getting out.
No place like home, right?
- No place like home.
- Excuse us.
We wanted to know if we could
really pass for Germans.
A crazy test.
I could have dropped dead.
Maybe it's alright to die here.
But still.
- How long have you been walking around?
- Since this morning.
- This is a good place to spend the night.
- The downstairs neighbours are quiet.
You were milking.
- Do you live of milk?
- Do you want some?
Just to share a drink.
Good, isn't it?
- Thanks, I love milk.
- And this is pure.
You can swap a litre of milk
for a handful of rice.
- That's a good cow.
- More than that.
Marguerite's also a good friend.
- So this is how you escape?
- Openly as a prisoner of war?
Marguerite's my free pass.
My own invention.
- It's a good idea.
- I'd think so.
We travelled almost 200 km together.
Without ever arguing.
- A great trip.
- Our trick is better though. Look.
Frenchman! Bastard! Pig!
- You do have to speak German.
- That's true.
Let's play cards
to kill some time.
I don't feel like playing cards.
- Which way are you going?
- We'll take the train somewhere.
I'll take the train in Stuttgart.
But I need civilian clothes.
That's the weakness in your plan.
For us it's easy.
Pick a card.
Damn, spades.
Bad luck. You'll get caught.
- Shall we go?
- Yes, we're going.
Let us go first
and you follow.
- Together, we stand out too much.
- See you later then.
- Goodbye.
- And good luck.
You too. You'll need it.
All military have to be checked.
Can I see your papers?
Captain Mller.
Captain Rupp.
Gentlemen, this is the German army.
You've got bad luck.
Your battalion's in Russia.
Next time, get better papers.
Please, come with me.
Guards!
- Prisoner... work... farm.
- Go.
I was on the right track.
In the distance lies the most
beautiful building in the world.
Stuttgart Station.
Another couple of kilometres
and I was safe.
Or almost.
This is where we split up.
This time for real.
How you can get attached to a cow.
A cow.
I promise that I'll never
eat veal again.
That's the least I can do for you.
And now...
tell me to break a leg.
Because I'll need a bit of luck.
Farewell. Farewell.
FRANCE
Check it.
2420 crates of ammunition.
Carriage 4754. 348 ammunition crates.
For France.
Via Stuttgart, Karlsruhe,
Lunville and Vitry-le-Franois.
Hurry up.
- Everything alright?
- Yes, you can close it.
- What's wrong?
- I don't know. This never happens.
This valve was open.
Let's go.
Damn, damn, damn.
-France.
Lunville.
Repatriates are taken care of by the
Red Cross at platform 1.
A glass of milk?
Travellers to Nancy, Bar-le-Duc, Chlons
and Paris, to platform 3.
The train is about to leave.
The five last carriages are reserved
for the German army.
The train is about to leave.
Your papers, please.
My papers?
I come from Germany.
They don't give you papers there.
If you don't have any papers,
you have to come with us.
Explain yourself to
the station police.
That's how I was liberated.
Like everyone else. Two years later,
on 17 March 1945.